Dethrequests
by XxBloodyNightmaresxX
Summary: Information in chapter 1!
1. Chapter 1

This isn't a first chapter, this is actually to tell you how this is going to work! Send in requests for drabbles or oneshots, and I'll conjure up the best that I can!

They also have to be specific if they're oneshots. I can think up anything with drabbles.

Please try to be a bit light on any kind of sexual stuff, I'm not used to writing anything like that (especially since, despite my perverted nature, I find myself too flustered to type up detailed things).

I'll try not to keep anyone waiting, but you have to respect my need to take time if I get a lot of requests.

Here are my standards:

1. No crazy sexual stuff beyond my limits

2. No band mates or important characters dying or getting killed

3. Nothing too OOC

4. It has to be believable and logical

I'm still debating on what my comfort level is with the whole SethxPickles thing, mostly because I've never written up anything dealing with incest. I'll try my best to satisfy any fans who like the pairing nonetheless!

Also, if this gets popular, I'm not letting chapters continue after 50.

OCs can be used for one shots as well!

So, send in your requests and I'll give you what my brain craps out!


	2. Request 1: Hide And Seek

"Okay, so we're all in on this, right?"

"Oh, ofs course!"

"Thish ish gonna be great!"

"I bet I's get drunks faster thans Tokis!"

"Don't start anythin' Skwisgaahr, I wanna enjoy this."

It was planned out like this: Everyone was going to get as drunk as possible, as fast as possible. The last person standing would be declared the winner, if they didn't end up changing plans half way down the road to whatever drunken stupor would follow. There weren't any rules, only that you had to get as hammered as possible, giving absolutely no care to the risk of liver poisoning. After all, they've had plenty liver transplants in the past. One more added to the list couldn't hurt.

Once the mountain of booze was set up in front of them, the rec. room turned into a mess of alcohol and determined band mates. It was hard for them to concentrate on who was doing what, especially with bottles pressed to their faces for most of the time. The scent of what seemed to be every possible alcoholic beverage practically _oozed _off the walls around them.

Most of it was a blur of dizziness, hiccuping, and bad singing (from Toki only). There were several small puddles of what was hoped to be anything but urine leaving somewhat of a polka dot pattern on the floor. A few broken bottles were at their feet, and Murderface had failed to avoid stepping on shards of glass. In the end, the room was littered with unknown liquids, broken glass, blood, and a singing Toki. How lovely.

It really was a sight so see. Skwisgaar was leaning on the wall, babbling about something involving a bucket and some Swedish gibberish. Murderface was complaining about the glass in his feet, proceeding to topple over and take some empty bottles with him (of course, only ending up in more shards of broken glass).

Toki and Pickles were in a one-sided singing contest since the drummer didn't even get a chance to do his part, and Nathan was apparently supposed to be the judge even though he was paying absolutely no attention to his surroundings.

Soon enough, the frontman spoke up during the madness. "Hey, guys-" "THIS GLASSH IS SSSSHO SHARP! W-WHY... WHY ISH THISH GLASSH SO SH-SHARP? FUCKPISSH!" "Uhh... guys-" "Oh gahd Toki, please jist stahp singin'..." "GUYS-" "Pfft... dildos Toki. I's sings better... dan... Anyways, dat... dat buckets was... w-what?" "**GUUUUUUUYS!**"

Complete silence. Well, other than the shifting glass on the floor. "We should... totally play hide and seek." A giggle from Toki. "But w-whys, Natens? Dats so..." "I'm in!" Pickles grinned widely. Anything to get away from the singing Norwegian. "Ja, I'm ins too, d-dis ams will be fun..!" Murderface mumbled something vulgar-sounding, finally regaining his balance enough to stand up without slipping or wobbling. "Toki should.. go first. I don't think any of us are sober enough ta walk areeound Mordhaus for an heeour, but he has... uh... expeerience."

A few nods of agreement were exchanged, and soon the rhythm guitarist was standing in a corner with his hands over his eyes, counting (badly). "One... twoooos... f-fo... threeees... four... fiiiiives... six... ei- sevennn..." Pause. "Twoooos..." It was definitely going to take the guy a long time to get to twenty. The rest of the band took this as an opportunity to look around for good hiding places.

The first one to find an unlikely spot was Skwisgaar. Seeing as how it was the least expected place for him to be found, he stumbled into Toki's bedroom, hiding in the closet. Even though it was an obvious place, Pickles felt he wasn't drunk enough and made his way to a liquor cabinet. Murderface... well, I honestly don't know what could've been going through his mind as he made his way to the roof, still cringing from the stinging pain in his feet.

Nathan, seeing Charles' office as the first place to go, immediately swung the door open without warning. "Uh... Can I... help you, Nathan?" Ofdensen could easily tell that the frontman had been drinking a fair amount of alcohol. "I... err... can I hide under your... desk?" This ended up with a raised eyebrow as an answer. "Is there any particular _reason_ you feel the need to hide under my desk?" The gears turned in Nathan's head to process what was just asked.

"We're playing hide and seek." There was somewhat of an embarrassed look to the drunken lead singer, as if it mattered more if someone like Charles found out than if one of his band mates did. It wasn't exactly a 'brutal' thing to admit, even if everyone else was joining in. "Very well. I'll be doing some work, so-" "Can you cover for me... if anyone comes in?" This definitely seemed like an unusually childish thing for everyone to be doing, but the manager shrugged. "I suppose." Standing up and moving his chair out of the way to give Nathan room, he waited until the other was uncomfortably situated.

The lead singer realized why his manager had such discomfort with the situation when he found himself at level with quite an eyeful. Still, he cast his staring off as a side effect from drinking enough alcohol to make someone's liver implode. The awkwardness in the room was thick enough to cut with one of Murderface's knives. "So... uh... what kind of work are you doing?" "Just keeping track of receipts and upcoming, ah, events." Silence again.

There wasn't much conversation, most of it was about random things just to try to refrain from stating how 'gay' the situation was. "Hm. Maybe I sh-should... uh.. stand up. I don't think anyone's coming." He assumed there was a nod since Charles backed away from the desk to let him out. It took quite an amusing amount of time for him to crawl out and stand up without breaking anything from falling.

Suddenly, a very hilarious thought popped up in Nathan's mind. "Hey.. remember... remember when you got drunk with us?" He could see the manager's shoulders tense very slightly. "I'd rather not talk about it, Nathan." A drunken smirk played on his face. Finally, some entertainment. If it wasn't gay before, it sure as hell was going to be now. "Why not? Is it because you almost fell down the stairs, or because I grabbed your ass?"

He watched as the usually calm and professional CFO's eye twitched, and there was somewhat of a sense of discomfort. This was fun! "I'd rather talk about something else." Time to really push his buttons. "What, you didn't like it?" _That's_ what really irked him, and it showed clearly in his facial expression. "Was I supposed to?" The irritated question earned a shrug.

The more time went by, the more Nathan wanted to crack Ofdensen. It was the only source of entertainment at the moment, and one could only imagine how long it was going to take Toki to count- let alone find anybody. Practically towering over the most brutal band manager in the world, he made sure to get things **_really _**uncomfortable in the room. "I like you better when you're drunk..." He leaned down and lightly pulled on the other's red tie. "You're less... professional." Even though there wasn't any stuttering, the slurring in his voice made itself known.

It finally ripped Charles' attention away from his work when he was able to smell the alcohol coming from the breath that began smacking against his neck. He backed the chair away from him. "N-Nathan, I really think you shou-" the door slammed open, revealing a frustrated Norwegian. It was quite a sight to see, in that room. Nathan was bent over and holding their manager's tie in his hand while Ofdensen was leaning away, seemingly flustered by the other. "Ha-haaa! Toki wins! You alls losers! In yous face, Skwisgaar!" And he proceeded to run out of the room.

With a devilish smirk and a low laugh, the frontman let go of the tie in his hand and headed out to the hallway like nothing ever happened. The room was quiet after the door shut. Now that he had his privacy, Charles leaned back and tried to get the previous events out of his memory. Maybe he needed some quiet time to think things over, maybe to get everything off of his mind. Before he was able to do anything, the office door slammed open.

"Hey butlers man, can I hides in here?"


	3. Request 2: The Talk

It sure was going to be an eventful part of Pickles' life. Getting back with Snakes 'n Barrels to perform in front of an audience when they've gone soft (literally and figuratively) ... well, it was a challenge in more ways than one. The day had been long, and the amount of alcohol and drugs that were consumed by merely one person was enough to kill a fully grown mammoth. It was strange how, despite the fact that he was so used to being a drummer for Dethklok, he still perfectly fit back into the place as lead singer. It was something that felt natural.

Sitting thoughtfully down on a couch, Pickles perked up to the sound of footsteps hitting his eardrums. "Oh, hey dere, Tony." He stared at the man in front of him, an image of how he appeared before the departure flashing through his mind. It seemed, in a way, that the drugs kept them in shape. Held them together. It was, after all, the glue of Snakes 'n Barrels. "Hey Pickles." The atmosphere was uncomfortable.

To keep from too much of an awkward silence to start, the lead singer scooted over and patted the spot next to him. This earned a couch partner for the time being. "I've been meaning to talk." ...'Oh crap. If he's coming out of the closet, I'm high-tailin' it outta here.' There was a pause. "Well, what did ya plan on tahkin' about?" "Well, mainly about how things were after... uh... well, you know. I know you hoped we wouldn't be too different when you came to visit us. It really took a toll on everyone, y'know? Once a band loses their lead singer, well... they aren't a band anymore."

Well, that was _obvious_. What was the point he was trying to make? "Uh... yeeah... but, I don't see where ya goin' wit dis." It was an odd thing to talk about, and definitely not Pickles' cup of tea, so to speak. "Listen. The band mates and I were talking about... maybe it would be the best if you came back. For good. After you left, we all just kinda... fell apart. Snakes 'n Barrels _**needs**_ you, Pickles." It took a minute for him to even realize what was being asked of him.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa... Tony. Listen, buddy..." a nervous laugh escaped him. "I know the band ain't doin' so well, but, Dethklahk is my _life_. I ceean't just leave 'em because you guys are havin' troubles." This brought a frown to his semi-bandmate's face. "Pickles, we need you. I know you care about your band, but what about us? What are WE supposed to do?" This was beginning to sound unbelievably selfish of the bassist. "I don't know, but ya ceean't say anything to git me away from Dethklahk! We're like... a feeamily now." "Then what are we to you, Pickles? We're not your family? Were we _ever _your family? Did you ever take time away from your booze and drugs to even realize anything?"

A low growl emitted from Pickles' chest. "Tony, dood, you're bein' selfish! I ceeared about you guys, and I still do, but...!" He pinched the bridge of his nose irritably. "The world don't revolve areeound you, okay? How do ya think I feel about this situation? I'm doin' it for fun, naht to get back with the beeand! I should be able ta do what makes me heeappy, and you should respect theeat!" It seemed like reality was starting to smack Tony in the face. "I... understand. Look, it's just been rough, okay? You're right. Your band- your family, they need you more than we ever will. Sorry for gettin' all soft on you, man. Come on, we should practice for the show."

During that show, Pickles had witnessed his former family being destroyed, on stage, for everyone to see. It was nauseating. There was this feeling in his gut that things wouldn't be the same after that. Not for him, and definitely not for Snakes 'n Barrels. The event was somewhat like watching his past go up in an explosion of uncontrollable flames. It was devastating (and somewhat brutal) to witness, but something that Tony had said back there really stood out in his mind. Something that was truer than he would ever realize in his lifetime.

"Your band- your family, they need you more than we ever will".


	4. Request 3: Just Add Booze

We all know the usual drunken escapades that Dethklok manages to get into... This particular one, however is just a bit different from the norm. Due to a brainstorm that mutated in Pickles' head, the band went out 'drunk shopping'. Having the assisting Klokateers sworn to secrecy, off went the most brutal band in the world... in a "woman's unmentionables" store. The first one to actually TRY ON anything was Skwisgaar (to absolutely nobody's surprise).

"Hey looks everybody, I's a beautiful lady with boobses!" the Swede announced to the entire store, stumbling around with a lacy pink bra and no shirt. The band mates, being completely intoxicated off their million dollar asses, snickered and began doing the same. Thank whatever demi-lord icon there was that nobody other than the band was in the store.

As soon as Toki copied everyone else, him and Skwisgaar got into yet another "stops copies me" fight. Murderface... well, let's just say you'd want to be blind if you entered that store, much to your misfortune. The drinking and imitating soon got up to the point where Pickles and Nathan were wearing thongs over their pants. Oh yeah, it was a sight to see!

Hours went by, and eventually, the store was about to close (that, and Murderface made any women that walked inside the store vomit all over the floor). This is where it really gets interesting. After all, what's _not_ interesting about Dethklok drunkenly stumbling through the streets with undergarments over their clothes? It doesn't need much detail, but let's just say the group had caused several accidents just by being Dethklok. Of course, it was un-brutal as Dethklok could get. Hilarious, but not brutal at all.

It took a lot of effort for the Klokateers to convince the band to get in the limo to be driven back to Mordland. The ride seemed longer than it actually was, considering the chaos that managed to be created by five grown men- members of the most dark and brutal band known to existence- drunkenly giggling and bickering in bras and panties.

"Meean, th-that was fuckin'... I don't even know, dood." "STOPS COPIES ME!" "NO, YOU STOPS COPIES _ME_!" "Murderface, you totally look your grandma, but... with a, uh... mustache." "OH THATSH IT, LEMME AT 'IM!" As their ride came to a stop, Mordhaus was invaded by hammered, gender-confused band members hollering at each other.

"Ah, I'm glad that you guys are..." Their manager, Charles Foster Ofdensen, blankly stared at them all. "... back..." Blinking several times, he scanned over their 'attire'. "I'll, uh... be working on some..."

"For the record, I tried."

Quickly walking out of the room, he decided it would be best to worry about things in the morning. "Alrights then, butlers man." "See ya, butlers man!"

"... Stops copies me."


	5. Request 4: Truth

It was a boring day at Mordhaus. The atmosphere around Mordland was cloudy and dark. Sure it was brutal, but it made the place so DULL. The band had somewhat abused Jean Pierre for the umpteenth time, and the only people left in the rec. room were Pickles, Nathan and a sleeping Toki. "This sucks, dood." This earned an irritated grumble from the frontman.

Nathan had his reading glasses on, skimming over the obituaries in the newspaper for anything that could be a good idea for a song. "Hmph..." taking out his handy dandy recorder, he clicked the button. "Idea for a song. Imploding guts." And once again, the boredom set in. "Hey, Nat'en?" Taking his concentration off of the newspaper in front of him, he sent the drummer a slight glare. "What?"

"I think we should find a wey to peeass (hurrhurr) the time. Like, a game or somethin'." Almost immediately, the slumbering Norwegian practically jumped out of his sleeping position. "OH WHOS TALKING ABOUTS A GAME? TOKI WANTS TO PLAYS!" Figures. He probably wasn't even sleeping in the first place, just closing his eyes and making snoring sounds.

"Alright. What we heeave ta do is... hmmm... well, we could alweys, ah, pley somethin' like truth or deeare." It was a childish thing to suggest, but they've done worse, and this got Toki happier than a... whatever. You get the point. "Alright then. Who's going to ask us first? Pickles, Toki?" Immediately, the latter practically had a spasm. "I's go, Nat'ens! Me! Toki! Over heres!"

The three were seated wherever, it didn't matter. "Okays... uh... Pickle, truth or dares?" "Truth. I'd reeather not git dared in Mordhaus." It was logical reasoning. "Alrights... uhhh.. Oh! Did you reallies have a... ho... homoseksicles... ah... thing.. when yous were in Snakes 'n Barrels?" Now THERE was some entertainment. On Nathan's part, anywho. It was amusing to see someone, especially in Dethklok, in the spotlight so suddenly.

"Ah... heheh... ya see..." "Spit it out, Pickles." there was somewhat of an amused expression on Nathan's face as he leaned in towards the drummer, determined to get some dirt on another band member. That's what would serve as fun for everyone around Mordhaus during days like this. "Ugh! Fine! Yeeah, I did, big deal!" "Oh wowee! Hows was it?" This caused Pickles to angrily snarl at the innocent Scandinavian, and Nathan to snort, hiding an upcoming growl. Even if it WAS funny to him, something odd boiled inside of him at the thought of Pickles in a relationship with a man (or rather, 'another' man).

"Toki, don't you have anything else to do? Go bother Skwisgaar or something." And just like that, he was off like a bullet, speeding down the hallway to irk his rival. Pickles was now determined to find out what that was about. He wasn't stupid, he knew when Nathan was angry or annoyed. It wasn't too difficult to figure out. "What was THEEAT Nathan?" this time, he correctly pronounced the 'th' in the lead singer's name. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Now Pickles was getting entertained. There was a pouty look to the other. It was like seeing the king of darkness itself... in time-out. "C'mon, Nate, don't tell me you're jealous or somethin'!" Now, the already easily-angered frontman had had enough. Standing up and towering over the already fairly short Irish man, he leaned in and tugged him by his shirt. "Jealous?" His voice was already low, dark and brutal on it's own... but the menacing tone to it could make somebody shit themselves.

"U-uh... heh, I didn't..." he found himself unable to speak as he stared into Nathan's deep green, fiery orbs. This was a situation that nobody ever wanted to be caught in. Pickles swallowed the nervous lump in his throat. What came next... well, it never would've been predicted. It took Pickles a second to realize that their lips were touching. Wait... back up.

THEIR LIPS WERE TOUCHING.

His face heated up like a furnace, watching Nathan pull away from him in disbelief and confusion. Though, most of the confusion was about how he felt just the slightest bit of disappointment when there was space between them again.

"Maybe I am."


	6. Request 5: Hide And Seek 2

It had been a long day for Charles. Work, work, work. It's always like that when Dethklok isn't wreaking havoc or performing up on stage. Repetition was how things were kept predictable. That's how Charles Foster Ofdensen liked to keep it. Predictable, easily kept in order, never caught off guard by anything. That was a rare thing as of lately, and so he took full advantage of the peace, the quiet, and the concentration he was able to keep for more than 5 minutes at a time.

The one thing that was _really_ bothering the manager was himself. Yes, you read that correctly. Burying himself under piles and piles of contracts, bills, receipts, letters, and documents was how he hid from himself. It was sad, but it was all for the well-being of his boys. Not even he himself got in the way of that. Being professional, and strictly only professional, was what Ofdensen restricted himself to. It was his comfort, his safety rope.

Much to his displeasure, the frontman of Dethklok (aka: Nathan Explosion) had been making that specific rule more and more difficult for him. He knew it, too. He knew exactly what he was doing on a day to day basis. There was always that mischievous glint in his eyes that caused an uneasy chill to spike up Charles' spine like a river of tiny spiders. His skin would crawl, his defense completely diminished faster than a paper towel being put through a meat grinder.

Because of the lead singer's antics, he had been isolating himself in his office, knuckles deep in files and paperwork. It had become easily noticeable to Dethklok. Now and then one of the boys would strut up to his office door just to make sure he was still breathing. Ofdensen had also gotten a few visits from Nathan, exactly the person he had intended to repel. There were many excuses made for visits, usually ending up in uncomfortable situations for the poor CFO.

It was a dull day at Mordhaus, and it began to take a toll on the band. It was easily deducted from the commotion constantly coming from the hallways and the rec. room. A tad irritating, but not enough to rip Charles' eyes away from the work in front of him. After all, he was a professional (in most departments, anywho). There was a moment of peace that he had used to his advantage, taking a moment to sit back and close his eyes, letting his mind rest. It was visible that his mind wasn't the only thing that needed rest.

There were hints of dark circles under his eyes, and Murderface was the first one to point that out at the most recent band meeting. Apparently robots weren't supposed to get dark circles, and he should've been taken to a repair shop so chaos didn't ensue. This made the manager sigh and pinch the bridge of his nose. Well, that and the fact that Toki immediately jumped to the conclusion that Ofdensen was dying. It took several hours to convince the upset Norwegian that he wasn't.

The door being swung open ruined the moment of silence, especially when it was noted that the person in the doorway was Nathan Explosion. Clearing his throat, the CFO was the first person to speak, as always. "Uh... Can I... help you, Nathan?" The distinct smell of alcohol coated the air surrounding the men. Whatever the turnout of the evening would be, he had a feeling it wouldn't be anything good.

"I... err... can I hide under your desk?" That certainly wasn't a 'predictable' question. "Is there any particular REASON you feel the need to hide under my desk?" There was a pause. "We're playing hide and seek." Well, that was slightly surprising. Then again, from body language and common sense, he was able to tell that he was completely drunk. "Very well. I'll be doing some work, so-" he was cut off. "Can you cover for me... if anyone comes in?" He had a feeling that nobody would be entering the room for a little bit. "I suppose."

He stood up and shifted the chair so that the fairly large frontman was able to fit into the space underneath his desk. It was spacious, yes, but Nathan wasn't exactly _small_. Once the other was situated, Ofdensen went back to his work. It definitely wasn't easy trying to work when someone was eye-level with your... well, groin area. The awkwardness in the room made itself very apparent. "So... uh... what kind of work are you doing?" Hmph. Not much of a save, Nate. "Just keeping track of receipts and upcoming, ah, events."

Attempting to go back to his work without another word, he ended up actually passing the time for a while. "Hm. Maybe I sh-should... uh... stand up. I don't think there's anyone coming." Thankful for the decision, Charles silently moved out of the way so that he could stand up. Though it was nice to have leg room and concentration, it was ruined with a single question. "Hey... remember... remember when you got drunk with us?"

The normally calm CFO felt his heart jump into his throat. All too well, Nathan... all too well. "I'd rather not talk about it, Nathan." The smirk on the lead singer's face practically revealed his intentions. It would've been nice to have the ability to shrink and fall through the floor right about now. "Why not? Is it because you almost fell down the stairs, or because I grabbed your ass?" His breath hitched.

It took all of his might not to let a blush rise to his face. 'Why me?' repeated in his mind over and over again. "I'd rather talk about something else." Charles kept in mind that he couldn't slip up. He knew this game, and he wasn't willing to lose. "What, you didn't like it?" ... Well... he'd rather keep the answer to that question unknown. "Was I supposed to?"

With each question or comment, he replied quickly and smoothly. Almost. The intimidating shadow of the frontman covered the manager, and it was enough to make him bite down on his bottom lip for a split second. Don't lose your cool, Charles. Whatever you do, DO NOT LET HIM GET TO YOU. "I like you better when you're drunk..." His red tie was tugged lightly. "You're less... professional."

The breath oozing down his neck had been the thing to crack him. Either that, the way he was stared at like a piece of meat, or how the other's voice sounded unbelievably sexual. It made his pulse quicken. "N-Nathan, I really think you shou-" He was interrupted by Toki throwing the door open. Even though he was thankful for the save, he knew he'd kick himself for his stuttering later on. "Ha-haaa! Toki wins! You alls losers! In yous face, Skwisgaar!" And off the oblivious Scandinavian went.

A particularly evil smirk played on Nathan's face as he chuckled and exited the room, leaving his poor manager impossibly flustered. One could only imagine what would've happened if the rhythm guitarist hadn't barged into his office. He'd rather not think about it. Well, at least he was FINALLY left to continue his work, right?

"Hey butlers man, can I hides in here?"

Wrong.


	7. Request 6: Killer

It seemed to be quiet throughout most of Mordland, and Skwisgaar Skwigelf sat on the edge of his bed, deep in thought. Earlier in the day, Toki's pet cat had died of some kind of incurable illness. It didn't seem like much. A lot of people around Toki died, so why should a stupid animal matter? Another thing about animals is that they can easily be replaced. That's what kept the lead guitarist from sleeping.

Everyone knew that the one rule that mattered the most was "do not show interest or intervene in band mates' personal lives", but giving someone a pet didn't count as interest, right? He didn't have to let anyone know that it was because of the sadness that the Norwegian experienced after the incident. At least it hadn't been Pickles who died. Now _that_ would've caused the band to spiral into depression, even if nobody would admit it.

Anyone could just go out and buy something, or have someone buy it for them... but to have someone buy something for you _just because_ was something more special. Something with an actual meaning behind it. Of course the two Scandinavians didn't get along most of the time, but it couldn't be said that there wasn't some kind of deeper connection between the two. There was a connection with every member of Dethklok, and it couldn't be denied, but there was something else with Skwisgaar and Toki. Something much more metal.

With thoughts constantly refusing to let the Swede sleep, it wasn't a surprise that he was still up when the sun rose over the horizon. As soon as commotion began happening around Mordhaus, he set off to find a Klokateer to assist him. He could've asked someone in the band who had a driver's license, but it wasn't exactly a 'brutal' thing to go out and buy a puppy for somebody. Then again, puppies are just baby dogs, and dogs are related to wolves- kind of like the yard wolves.

It didn't take too long for Skwisgaar to find a few Klokateers to assist him, and he was headed to the best (and probably most expensive) pet store in the area. Even if his guitar playing was totally dildos, the second fastest guitarist in the world deserved a nice pet-present-thing. The ride took around 20 minutes, and the 'much less dildos' fastest guitarist in the world set off to look for a good replacement. It was definitely harder than it looked.

"Too fluffies."

"Too fats."

"Too big."

"Too small."

"Too... EUGH OH GODS, IT'S PISSINKS ON ME! GET THIS LITTLE FUCKERS PUT DOWNS OR SOMETHINKS!"

"Too wrinkleds."

"Too dildos."

After what seemed like forever and a half, a whine and a bark got Skwisgaar's attention. Looking at the cage to his right, he saw a very handsome and desperately excited black Norwegian Elghund (or Elkhound) puppy. "Huh. What yous want, little whiner, ah? Stupids dog, being a dildo crybabies all... stucks in that cage... all lonelies..." his voice trailed off as he tried to look away from the pair of big, sad, hope-filled eyes staring up at him. "Oh, don't looks at me likes that, you dildos puppy!"

Something about that puppy, hopeful to find a warm and loving home, looking to anyone for a pat on the head or a "good boy", stuck in that cold and lonely cage with his head held high... it reminded him of Toki. He needed that puppy. "I thinks I found the rights one." And so, the Elghund was signed away to the Dethklok family that day. Thinking about Toki's face when he would find his present, it made Skwisgaar smile and laugh.

The ride back to Mordhaus seemed longer than the ride to the store, but all that mattered was the new member of their fucked up family. As the lead guitarist headed towards his band mate's room, he had everything planned out. The puppy was placed in a box (with holes in it, of course) behind him. He'd annoy his fellow Scandinavian, make it seem like he was just there to push his buttons, and TA-DAH, the gift would be presented. The thing that would make it all worth while would definitely be the reaction caused by it.

A few knocks on the door, and it was answered by a slightly disheveled Toki. "Skwisgaar? Whats do you wants?" "Oh, wells, I was just seeinks if little dildo Toki was still ats the crysbabies house." "Yous a dildo! If you don't wants anything, just leaves!" It was easy to tell that this wasn't a bright sunshiney day for the other. "Pfft, yous so stupids." "Am not! Yous the one who looks like a lady!" The Norwegian unknowingly had a pouty look on his face, his lower lip puffed out slightly.

"Oh, wells, I guess you don'ts want anythinks from a lady." He raised an eyebrow. "Whats do you mean?" "I means this." Reaching back for the box, he walked into the bedroom without any invitation. He placed the present down on the bed and opened it, causing a furry ball of un-brutal cuteness to investigate it's new surroundings. Skwisgaar looked over at Toki, resisting the urge to bark out a laugh as his band mate's facial expression. Apparently, the situation caused him to forget to speak in English.

"Det er så utrolig! Takk, takk, takk! Jeg er så glad! Du er den beste!" "Well, I can'ts argue." The Swede watched him play with the Elghund, an idea popping up in his mind. "So, whats are you goinks to name him?" "Ooh! I thinks he shoulds beeeeee..." There was a small pause. "Moose!" Did he hear that correctly? "Uh... That's not a very brutals name, Toki. He shoulds have a vikings name, like-" "It's _my_ dog, so _I_ gets to name him!"

After an hour of fighting over a name, the two had finally compromised and named him Killer. It was simple, and somewhat made up for his less-than-intimidating appearance. After Killer had fallen asleep, Toki went to take a shower while Skwisgaar laid back against the wall. It didn't take a psychic to tell that he hadn't gotten any sleep the previous night. Everyone else was probably just waking up, since it was already around 2 PM.

Being shaken awake, Skwisgaar had almost pushed the hand on his shoulder away. Well, waking up after a short nap to Toki wearing nothing but a towel around his waist wasn't completely unpleasant. He stood up, keeping himself from staring at the sight before him. "Hey Skwisgaar?" This broke him out of the trance he caught himself in as he stared at the wall, still somewhat waking up. "Whats do you wants, little Toki?" Oh, believe me, from what he was seeing, Toki was most-likely anything but little.

"Why dids you gets me a dog in the first place?" He blinked. "Whats do you mean?" "Wells, it's just... nice. Yous not exactly 'nice' to me." It was true, and Skwisgaar didn't feel like being mean after getting his first and only 15 minutes of sleep since two days before. It had been a pretty good day, and he couldn't help but feel the need to flirt a little. Who wouldn't? Both of them were aware of mutual attractions, but neither of them ever showed anything towards each other involving actions or words. Maybe it was time for a change.

"Maybe I wants to be." It was a simple sentence, and yet Toki remained silent as Skwisgaar leaned in just a bit, pausing half way to the other's lips. "Why dids you stop?" came a suddenly small and shy voice. It was kind of cute to see him act like that. Both of them turned their heads to see Killer's big, innocent eyes staring straight at them. Is it uncomfortable in here, or is it just me? In order to break the immediately awkward feeling in the room, the lead guitarist raised his arm and looked down at a non-existent watch. "Oh, woulds you looks at the time! I shoulds get goinks, I'll sees you later!"

Before he could step in the direction of the door, the collar of the Swede's shirt was pulled, and he was instantly guided to the rhythm guitarist's lips. Everything seemed to stop around them as his head swam, unable to fully comprehend what was happening until it was over. What came out of his mouth next was surprising for both of them. "... Maybes I'll come backs to visit later when I don'ts have a dog starinks at me..." And off he went, speeding down the halls of Mordhaus. It may have been the sunny atmosphere outside, but there seemed to be- maybe- a small skip in Skwisgaar's step that wasn't there before.


	8. Insert Norwegian Curse Words Here

Hi guys! Unfortunately, as you may have noticed, I haven't posted any finished requests.

The days for requests are now moved to weekends, cause my first year at high school is gonna keep me pretty busy.

I feel AWFUL for doing this and making you wait, but I barely have time to sit down, and I haven't been able to get on the computer much.

I'm one of those people who groans when they find out that their updates for stories are actually author's notes, so I also apologize for that.

I promise I haven't, and won't forget you guys!

School is dildos.


	9. Request 7: Nightmare

It finally happened. His father was really dead. He used to think that his father's death would be the best thing that could happen to him, revenge for what he was put through as a child... and yet, he found himself haunted. Even in death, his old man found ways to torment him. It pained him to think about the events, so he refused to. That's how it would work... right?

The long day had finally taken a toll on Toki Wartooth, leaving him to wait for some sort of deep, comforting sleep. There were bags under his bloodshot eyes, and if he had black smudges on his face, his skin could easily be mistaken for corpse paint. Of course, the rest of the band noticed this, but there were strong barriers preventing them from speaking up. For one, it wasn't metal to worry about fellow band members. Also, they had all agreed to never show interest, care or intervene in band mates' personal lives.

Sure, Toki was technically considered the little brother of Dethklok, but that wouldn't cause anyone to come forth (especially in front of everyone else) to help. Maybe that was what was really hurting Toki. If it weren't for Charles, he wouldn't have had anyone with him that day. It was as if they really didn't give a shit about what happened to the rhythm guitarist, and that was like kicking a puppy with a broken leg. Well, a wolf. Toki was no puppy. Or, at least, that's what he thought.

Eventually, without realizing it, his eyes began to get heavier and heavier until they closed, opening the doorway to whatever dream awaited him. Or in this case... well, I'll let you decide.

_The snowflakes falling from the sky seemed too sharp not to be able to stab something. It had been the second night that young Toki was left out in the cold for talking about guitars and how he wanted one for his birthday. The only presents he ever got had something to do with religion, but now he actually had his sights set on getting an actual present. Just an acoustic guitar so he could play music, something to use as an escape. Maybe, if he played good enough, he'd actually get out of this awful place._

_He would usually be left outside for a mere day and night when speaking about his parents buying anything that wasn't the bible, but this time, he had spoken against them. Mostly, his father. That had earned an unbelievable beating. The 13 year old boy had a swollen face and bloody whip marks on his back that would definitely leave scars. Weren't parents supposed to give their children hugs and kisses instead of punches and whips? Weren't they supposed to make their children do chores instead of sleep out in the snow? He couldn't tell for sure. He never came in contact with any other parents._

_The wind began to make a soft howling noise as the snow began falling hard enough to hurt. Well, at least, that's what he thought it would do. Toki couldn't tell. He was numb from the cold. The sky was luminous and black. It was menacing, and for a second, the boy wondered if he was really going to be struck by God's wrath for his sins. It sure as hell seemed like it! To get away from the dangerous weather, he began running. Where? He couldn't tell, but anywhere was better than there._

_As he kept running through the thickness of the snow, his numb and tingling legs began to strain and burn. His surroundings began twisting and contorting into visions of blackness and demons, malevolent eyes watching over him... waiting for something. His heart beat was so fast, it felt like his rib cage was going to explode. And then, just as he turned around to look at the devil who had been following him through the snow..._

The fully grown Toki Wartooth, rhythm guitarist for the biggest death metal band in history, was woken up by the sound of his own screaming. Being scared out of his wits, he spoke in his native tongue. "Han kan ikke få mig, han kan ikke få mig ... han er død nå ... han kan ikke få mig." His chest heaved as he sat up, running a clammy hand through his hair. Maybe he hadn't forgiven his father completely. Either that, or he was still scared shitless of him. Probably the latter.

The only option left for some kind of comfort was to seek out one of his fellow band mates to help him fall asleep. Murderface and Skwisgaar were out of the question for several obvious reasons. Pickles and Nathan were the only people who wouldn't laugh in his face or call him "gay" (though he didn't have a clue what emotions had to do with one's sexuality). The first person he'd go to was Pickles. If anything, he should understand.

Heading to Pickles' room as quietly as possible, Toki ever-so-slowly opened the door, only to be greeted by a drunken drummer mumbling something in his sleep. Okay, so maybe it wasn't such a great option. The only other person he could count on was Nathan, and Toki crossed his fingers that he was awake, because nobody who wants to keep their skin attached to their bodies would attempt to disturb the front man's slumber. It was like jumping in front of a lion wearing a raw steak on a rope around your neck.

Blue silk pajamas and all, the guitarist headed down the hallway in the direction of Nathan's room. Each step seemed like it took forever, but he eventually found himself standing in front of the door. Valuing his life, he checked to see if a light shone through from under it. Thank the gods that there was, because now was not the time to commit suicide. A few light knocks and the door was opened, revealing the vocalist in a pair of black boxers. He seemed just a bit tired from the day's events. "Toki? What do you want? It's, like, 3 AM." The Norwegian gave an inaudible sigh of relief, glad that the other wasn't in a bad mood.

"Uh, wells..." The idea of seeking comfort from Nathan suddenly seemed utterly ridiculous. It would've helped if the realization happened _before_ he knocked on the door. "I just.. wants to hang out..." It sounded more like a question as he spoke. Obviously, Nathan wasn't buying it. "You had another nightmare, didn't you?" Did I mention that this has happened before?

A small nod was given as a reply. If it was anyone else, the frontman would've told them to beat it so he could get some sleep, but he knew what had happened to Toki in the past, and he didn't need an insomniac as a rhythm guitarist. "Alright, get in. Don't expect me to be, uh... motherly or some shit." Just grateful for someone to talk to, he eagerly walked inside the room and closed the door.

It was silent for some time until Toki spoke up. "Hey Nat'ens?" That earned a grumble in response. "Dos you thinks that I'm a bad guy?" Well, that was definitely unexpected. "-mumble- Not really." Silence again. Maybe he didn't feel like talking as much as last time? Nathan sure as hell was avoiding him lately. Nobody else seemed to notice. It made him curious. "Then why don'ts you likes me?" It might've just been him, but it seemed like the other tensed up for a moment.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Well, that was a lie. "Yous been avoidings me." It was surprising that Toki was the first band member to actually point it out. "No, I haven't." Not seeing the point in arguing with someone who just let him into their room at 3 AM because of a nightmare, he remained quiet as he leaned against the wall. The more time went by, the more the Norwegian's sadness became noticeable. It was all too obvious that he was upset from his inner turmoil.

"Look..." Sighing and pinching the bridge of his nose, Nathan attempted to make things at least a bit more tolerable. "This is probably about as non-metal as I'm going to get... ah, fuck it. We care about you, okay? It's just easier not to show it. Apparently you're the only one who can't get that through their head. If anything, you're probably the one everybody worries about the most. I'm not _used_ to these situations, so don't expect me to make everything go away, alright?" It took a bit of silence for the rhythm guitarist to even realize what was just said to him. It touched his heart. He knew it wasn't brutal or metal for his band mates to care about him, but it felt amazing to know that they did.

Even though there were signs of discomfort by it, Toki stayed hugging him as long as possible. There really weren't any words to correctly describe how he was feeling in English, so he kept quiet, clinging to the man like there was no tomorrow.

"... Toki?" "Ja?" "You're crushing my spine."


End file.
